


Mistaken Identity

by Buffybot76



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, The Turn
Genre: Crossover, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-11-02 11:39:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10943751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buffybot76/pseuds/Buffybot76
Summary: After the war, Hermione decides to remain with her parents in the Muggle world for a year to make up for wiping their memories in order to keep them safe. While there, she runs into someone familiar... Or maybe not.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title is not definite. I may change it if I come up with something more suitable.
> 
> This is just something that came to me while watching a short film on YouTube called The Turn that includes the ever sexy James Phelps. I don't know if I will continue it or not due to the other two stories I have ongoing already, but I just wanted to get people's opinions and reactions to the idea. Don't be afraid to tell me what you think!

**Title:** Mistaken Identity  
**Author:** GredMione Fan (Buffybot76)  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters that appear in this fic. I am simply borrowing them for my amusement and non-profit entertainment.  
**Pairing:** Morris Talliver/Hermione Granger, some George/Hermione  
**Rating:** PG for now, but may go to M later (if I continue) knowing me  
**Summary:** After the war, Hermione decides to remain with her parents in the Muggle world for a year to make up for wiping their memories in order to keep them safe. While there, she runs into someone familiar... Or maybe not.  
**Genre:** Romance/Crossover

 

**-Chapter 1-**

 

The war had been over for nearly four months. During that time, the members of the Golden Trio had come to terms with quite a few things.

Harry had come to terms with the fact that he was now the Godfather of a nearly five month old Teddy Lupin, and he was throwing himself whole-heartedly into the role. He and Ginny, although young themselves and not knowing much on how to raise a baby, were doing their very best to compensate for the tragic absence of the little one's parents. Harry was certain that even though Remus and Nymphadora were gone in body, they were still around in spirit, and the once widely proclaimed Boy Who Lived could feel their guiding hands every single day.

Ron and Hermione had both come to terms with the fact that despite what everyone – even they themselves – had believed, they were _**not**_ meant to be romantically involved with each other.

Despite having shared a desperate kiss during the heat of the battle, the passion that they had expected to feel, wasn't there. Hermione and Ron had even went on a date, once the fallen had been laid to rest and the rebuilding had commenced. The awkwardness they felt was testament to the truth. Although they loved each other dearly, they simply weren't _**in love**_.

Hermione had come to terms with the fact that she had a decision to make about whether or not she wanted to retrieve her parents from Australia, and restore their memories – though, really it wasn't a tough decision at all. Of course she wanted her parents back, of course she did.

With help from Kingsley Shacklebolt, the newly instated Minister for Magic, Hermione was aided in finding the elder Grangers' location, and she made the appropriate arrangements to travel to the 'Land Down Under'. 

It had taken a couple weeks of preparation, but when she had finally arrived in Australia, Hermione's heart skipped a beat when she laid eyes on her Mum and Dad sitting at a patio table of a local coffee shop. For a few moments, Hermione hesitated. Her parents looked so happy smiling at one another whilst sipping their preferred drinks – her Dad a strong cup of black coffee, and her Mum a chai latte – that she could feel her anxiety building. 

Would they be angry with her for what she had done? Would they hate her for taking away their choice simply because she had been scared of losing them? Would they ever forgive her?

_'No,'_ Hermione thought, shaking away any lingering doubt and trusting in her heart. Steadily, she crossed the street towards her parents, her head held high.

In the end, the curly haired witch's worries were for naught. Her parents had forgiven her completely, of course they had, how could they not? Hermione was their baby, their beloved little girl, whom they would always protect, no matter what they would have to do in order to accomplish that. With misty eyes, but elated smiles on their faces, Mr. and Mrs. Granger had gathered Hermione in their arms and held her tight. Her father planted a kiss to the top of Hermione's head, and she had cried as her mother's soothing voice filled her ears.

Their reunion was moved to another venue due to the odd looks that they were receiving. The Grangers took their daughter to the little house they had been living in since moving to Australia. It didn't take very long for Hermione's parents to come to a decision. They wanted to return to their old lives back in London, for it was their true lives, and they wanted to be closer to their daughter as they had been apart for far too long.

The guilt Hermione felt was immense, despite her parents' protests that she had nothing to feel guilty about, as she had been trying to protect them in the only way she knew how. However Hermione still felt like she owed them, thus she made a promise. Hermione would remain with her parents in the Muggle world and forget about the Wizarding world for the time being. "A year," she said firmly. "I want to make up for lost time." Her parents agreed, and within the next three weeks they were back in London, settling back into Hermione's childhood home.

Hermione's final magical act was to use an owl to send a letter to Harry and the rest of the Weasleys, explaining what she had decided to do. She told them that after everything they went through, she owed her parents this, and she didn't want them to worry about her anymore. The brunette witch told them that she loved them all and requested that someone come to collect her at the end of the year. A reply was received within two days and with a happy smile on her lips, Hermione Granger had put away her wand, placing it reverently into a hope chest her mother had gotten her for her sixteenth birthday.

"Hermione, dinner's ready," Jean Granger's voice called from downstairs, and Hermione's smile widened.

"Coming, Mum!" Hermione said, sliding the chest under her bed, and leaving her room.

~*~*~*~*~*~

**-Six Months Later-**

 

Hermione had no idea how she had gotten here.

Well, that was a lie. She knew exactly _**how**_ she arrived here, the _**why**_ was what was eluding her. Despite Chelsea's adamant assurances that she would enjoy their excursion to the club they were currently having a drink at, Hermione wasn't so sure. For one, it wasn't so much a party location as it was a comedy club with a small bar tucked away in the corner. Hermione sipped at her red wine, intending to enjoy it. She was nineteen after all.

"I don't know why I let you talk me into this," Hermione grumbled into her glass. "They're not even funny!"

The petite blonde woman grinned. Hermione had met Chelsea four and a half months earlier via one of her visits to her parents' practice. She'd been dropping something off to her Mum and while in the waiting room, she had began talking to Chelsea, who was waiting to have her teeth cleaned. The two had hit it off and had been hanging out regularly ever since. "Well, the closing act is really what we're here for. He's super funny, not to mention cute!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. Of course it was because of a guy. She should have known...

It was getting late and Hermione hoped that the closing act would be starting soon. The old guy who was currently up on stage was horrid, all of his supposed jokes falling flat and making her wince internally from second-hand embarrassment. She glanced over when her friend's phone buzzed.

Chelsea flipped open her cell and lowered her head to whisper a greeting into it, covering her free ear with her hand in order to drown out the pseudo-comedian's voice as he began bringing his set to a close.

"Really? Oh, for goodness sake! Stay there, I'll be right over," Chelsea was shaking her head as she hung up and began gathering her things.

"What's up?" Hermione asked, sitting up straight and reaching for her bag, stopping when Chelsea shook her head.

"It's nothing, Rob just needs a lift home. He's a bit sloshed and doesn't want to risk driving. I'm going to give him a lift and then I'll be right back. You should stay and enjoy the entertainment," she winked at Hermione with a cheeky grin. 

Hermione shook her head, unable to understand why Chelsea put up with her ex-boyfriend's antics. Honestly, didn't the guy have other friends willing to play designated driver for him?

"Hurry back," she said with a sigh, resigning herself to staying put.

"Will do."

Hermione watched her friend leave, not realizing that the old guy had finished his set and the announcer was back up to introduce the next act. She missed the person's name, however she applauded politely before beginning to rummage in her purse for a bill, planning on going back for a refill on her drink.

Hermione froze when the voice of the person on stage began to speak. It was a hauntingly familiar voice.

Hermione wouldn't say that she was an expert on the Weasley twins, not really. Although she had always been a bit proud of the fact that she was among the select few who could truly tell them apart, even before George's ear had been hexed off. She had gotten good at even telling them apart without having to look at them, simply by the tone of their voices. George's voice was a bit deeper and had a richness to it that she was kind of embarrassed to admit sent small shivers down her spine. Fred's voice had the same effect on her, but his voice hadn't been quite as deep as George's.

Hermione's eyes shot up from her bag toward the stage and the young man who was currently standing center of it with a mic in his hand and a joke on his oh-so-familiar lips.

No. It couldn't be. He..., he was dead. She'd seen it – seen his body laid to rest.

But then how in Merlin's name could _**Fred Weasley**_ be standing in the middle of a stand up comedy club, belting out a punchline that had the rest of the audience around her bursting with laughter?

With a shocked gasp, Hermione sprang to her feet a bit too quickly it seemed. Anyone who knew Hermione Granger, knew that she was not one who fainted at the drop of a hat. It took a lot to rattle her. But this...

The audience who had previously been caught laughing at the cause of Hermione's distress, all turned to stare as the young woman uttered one word before crumbling to the floor gracefully.

"F-Fred?!"

~*~*~*~*~

Morris Talliver was a bit shocked to say the least when a beautiful brunette sprang to her feet only a couple of minutes into his act. For a split second he'd smiled, thinking he had actually acquired himself a fan, but then she'd gasped out another man's name before fainting on the floor and he had come back to his senses. _'What the bloody hell?'_ he thought.

With a look of confusion mixed with worry, he made his way off the stage and over to the woman, who was now surrounded by the patrons of the club, though no one seemed in a hurry to check on the poor girl. He knelt down beside her prone body.

"Miss," he spoke softly, gently tapping her on the cheek with the back of his fingers. He brought his other hand up behind her neck and cradled her head. "Miss, are you alright?"

For a moment there was no response, which allowed him to actually take in the young woman's appearance. She was quite pretty, he thought, with her heart shaped face framed by riotous brown curls. Long lashes and a cute button nose that was graced by a faint smattering of freckles. Her mouth was lax and slightly open, her lips full and oddly inviting, and all of a sudden he was overcome with an urge to lean down and kiss her.

Morris shook his head to clear it.

He glanced back down in time to see the young woman beginning to stir. A small moan escaped her lips and her long lashes fluttered before finally opening to reveal deep chocolate orbs that seemed to draw him in. Then their eyes connected and she screamed, immediately scrambling back away from him.

Morris' hands instantly shot up in a placating manner. "Wait! Please, I'm not going to hurt you!" he said, watching as a mix of emotions flashed her face until it settled on confusion.

"F-Fred? But how? Why would you allow your family to believe that you–" Hermione swallowed her words, her eyebrows furrowing in pain. "They've mourned you!" she exclaimed loudly in accusation, and Morris' eyebrows shot up in surprise. What the bloody hell was she on about?

"No! You're mistaken, I'm afraid. My name's not Fred," Morris said in an attempt to diffuse the tension he could sense building. He stuck out his hand towards the girl in greeting. "It's Morris, actually. Morris Talliver."

~*~*~*~

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

**Mistaken Identity**   
**\- Chapter 2 -**

 

_"No! You're mistaken, I'm afraid. My name's not Fred," Morris said in an attempt to diffuse the tension he could sense building. He stuck out his hand towards the girl in greeting. "It's Morris, actually. Morris Talliver."_

Hermione blinked in surprise, any further rant dying on her lips as she stared at the proffered hand numbly. As the young man's words registered in her mind, her eyes flicked up to search the familiar face. Only... it wasn't as familiar now that she was calmer, and looking at him from a closer angle.

Morris' hair, for one, was not the usual shock of Weasley red, but a rich brown, much like her own, thankfully not frizzy in the least. In fact, it looked almost silky as it fell to his shoulders in thick locks, framing his face. His facial features _**were**_ familiar, but lacking the smattering of freckles that Fred and George possessed, and also, the eyes were wrong. Instead of piercing blue, they were a warm hazel and Hermione had to fight back a blush beneath their gaze.

"I– I am terribly sorry, Morris, was it?" she said somewhat embarrassed. When Morris nodded, smiling dazzlingly at her, Hermione's heart skipped a beat. It was an achingly familiar smile, more similar to George's than Fred's this time and she couldn't hold back the blush flushing her cheeks.

Bowing her head slightly in an attempt to keep him from noticing her blush, Hermione reached out and grabbed his hand, shaking it as she introduced herself. "I'm Hermione Granger, and I am sorry for the mix up. You just look like someone– er," she trailed off, pausing slightly before starting again. "I _**thought**_ you looked like someone I knew. But now that I've seen you up-close, you're not really that similar to him."

All the while she'd been speaking, she had forgotten to release his hand, which Morris noted in amusement. "Here, let me help you up," he said, pulling her to her feet with ease. It happened so suddenly that she stumbled, but Morris placed a hand on her side to steady her.

In turn, Hermione's hands found purchase on Morris' forearm and his chest, both of which she found to be nicely defined. "Sorry about that," he chuckled. "Clearly, I don't know my own strength," he said, and once Hermione was standing on solid ground, he released her and stepped back. The brunette witch felt a pang of disappointment at the loss of contact.

_'Okay, this is getting ridiculous!'_ she thought to herself. _'I've just met the guy and suddenly I'm fancying him?'_ Mentally, she chalked it up to his being an almost doppelganger to Fred and George. Her old schoolgirl crush on the twins, mainly George, was reemerging and it was seriously messing with her mind right now.

Morris looked around, noticing that all of the club's patrons, including the scout he knew had been in attendance, had already left.

_'Damn it, I didn't even get to finish my set!'_ he thought, disappointed at the loss of his chance at being discovered yet again. At twenty-six, Morris had dreams of hitting it big on the comedy scene, this being his fourth consecutive night performing at the Comedy Club. He had hoped that tonight would have been the night that changed his life.

He looked back at the pretty young woman standing before him. He could tell that she was younger than him, couldn't be more than twenty years old, if that. Not being one to have his head turned by make-up and fancy clothes, Morris appreciated the natural beauty she exuded. She was short in stature, the top of her head barely reaching his shoulders, her body a curvy, womanly shape, not stick-thin like most women thought looked appealing to a man. Realizing that he was staring at her, Morris turned his head, one hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck as he felt his face grow hot.

"W-would you c-care for a drink?" he stuttered in an attempt to hide the fact that he had been admiring her body only seconds before.

Fortunately, Hermione had been too busy chastising herself for allowing her old crush to influence her, to notice. Morris' abrupt invitation surprised her, snapping her attention right back to him. "Oh, um, that sounds nice. Thank you," she accepted. It was just a guy, after all. _'A guy who looks so much like the twins that he could almost be their triplet...'_ she thought wistfully.

Hermione allowed Morris to lead her over to a table where he pulled out a chair for her to sit in. "What will it be, Hermione? Your choice," he offered, waiting for her to give him her order so he could go and fetch it.

"Red wine, please," she replied, and Morris smiled at her before turning and heading towards the bar.

While Morris was gone, Hermione gathered her thoughts on the situation she found herself in. Why had she accepted his offer for a drink? Was it just due to his similarities to the twins? No, it wasn't just that. She had never been one to make a big deal over a guy in the past, her sights having been set more on the academic side, than social. Not to mention the string of life threatening situations she got herself into with Harry and Ron, there was simply no time for romance. But for some reason, Hermione found herself wanting to get to know Morris Talliver better.

Morris came back shortly with her wine in one hand and a beer for himself in the other. Sitting the fluted glass down before her, he settled his lanky frame down in the chair closest to hers, his knee slightly brushing hers beneath the table, and once again, Hermione felt a jolt of attraction to the man. In order to distract herself, Hermione took a long sip of her drink.

"So, tell me a bit about yourself, Morris," she said, sitting her glass back on the table. The tension caused by her attraction to him was building, and she was desperate to dispel it.

Morris hesitated for a minute, causing Hermione to frown, wondering if she's said something wrong. Had she overstepped and became too nosy? She **_was_** a complete stranger to him, after all, and anyone would be cautious to open up about themselves on a first meeting.

Morris _**was**_ pleased by her question, as it hinted that she might be interested in him. Why else would she want to know more about him? The problem was _**what**_ did he tell her about himself? Even though they had just met, he really liked her, but there were quite a few things about his past that he didn't think she would believe, much less understand. Biting his lip, Morris finally decided that a slightly edited version of his life story was in order.

"It'd be my pleasure, Hermione," he finally said with a smirk. "I have the memory of a computerized elephant, so what would you like know?" he asked eagerly.

Hermione laughed softly and shrugged. "Tell me everything," she said with a smile.

Morris returned her smile and with great zeal he began to speak. His mention of having the 'memory of a computerized elephant' appeared to be no joke as he did indeed proceed to fill her in on _**everything**_ , from his childhood, all the way up to the present. Twenty minutes later Hermione was realizing that despite the physical similarities, Morris was completely different from the Weasley twins. For one, he was extremely awkward in the few times he had attempted to flirt with her since the beginning of their 'drink date'. Although, as he regaled her with his entire life's story, she became more and more intrigued by him.

Hermione was surprised to learn that Morris was actually attending a local college on a scholarship for Genealogy. He explained that although he planned on acquiring a major in the field, his heart was set on his passion for comedy and becoming a great Stand Up comedian, like some of his idols.

"I love to make people laugh, always have, ever since I was little," Morris explained. Hermione watched curiously as suddenly his eyes grew sad, slowly losing focus, as if remembering something unpleasant. She was about to reach out and ask if he was okay when just as quickly as he had drifted away, he snapped back to reality, shaking his head to dispel the memory and focused back on her.

"Okay, Miss Granger, your turn," Morris grinned at her.

"Um, excuse me?" Hermione blinked in surprise, feigning confusion. How could she have been so stupid? Of course he would want to know about her as well. Frantically, Hermione racked her brain to come up with a back-story that paralleled her life in the magical world, but was suitable for a Muggle to hear.

Thankfully, she was saved from her floundering by Chelsea's return. The petite blonde came waltzing up to their table, sporting a knowing grin directed at Hermione. "So sorry to interrupt, I had a spot of trouble getting away from Rob. I swear that boy has tentacles for arms, if you know what I mean."

"Chelsea, I was beginning to wonder if you'd forgotten about me!" Hermione teased her friend, rising to greet her and wrapping her up in a hug for good measure. When she pulled back, she could tell that if she didn't act quickly, then Chelsea would be inviting herself to have a seat and join them at the table.

"Well, Morris, it's getting late and we've really got to be going," Hermione said apologetically.

"But it's only 8:30, Mines." Chelsea protested, but Hermione pointedly ignored her.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, and I am so sorry for disrupting your set with my little case of mistaken identity." The whole time she was speaking, Hermione was grabbing her purse and attempting to shove Chelsea toward the exit.

"That's quite alright," Morris replied politely, a bit bewildered at her sudden need to leave. Had he said something wrong? He swallowed hard as the unpleasant feeling of never seeing Hermione again grew in the pit of his stomach, as he watched the curly haired woman herd her blonde friend closer and closer to the door.

At the last moment, the blonde broke away and quickly made her way back to his table. He watched as she produced a pen from somewhere and scribbled onto a napkin, even as Hermione chastised her from across the room.

"Honestly, Chels, do you have to give out your number now?" If there happened to be a hint of a jealousy in the tone of her voice, Hermione chose to ignore it.

With a quick wink, Chelsea pushed the makeshift notepad in Morris' direction before sprinting back to her friend's side with a giggle. It wasn't until after the two women were well out the door that Morris picked up the napkin and looked at what was written on it. It actually _**was**_ a phone number, as Hermione had accused. The words _'Give her a ring sometime cutie'_ had the dark haired comic grinning ear to ear.

Quickly slipping the napkin into his pocket, Morris retreated to the back briefly, to retrieve the notebook in which he kept all of his material for his acts, and left the club for the night.

~*~*~*~

tbc...


	3. Chapter 3

**_Author's Note:_** Many thanks to all who've reviews, followed and favorited this story. It's my little guilty pleasure fic and I hope you all enjoy it, regardless of how sporatically it will be updated. 

**Mistaken Identity**   
**\- Chapter 3 -**

 

Hermione sat stiffly beside Chelsea as her friend drove towards Hermione's house in order to drop her off. As she did, the blonde chatted away about "the cutie" they had just left at the Comedy Club. Hermione should have known better than to take an interest in Morris. Once she'd seen Chelsea slip him the piece of paper that she was certain contained her name and phone number, Hermione had known it was a lost cause for her. Chelsea was such an outgoing woman, and beautiful to boot, so the brown haired witch had no doubt who the charming young comic would choose now that he knew he had an option, despite his flirting with her earlier while having drinks.

As the blonde continued talking, Hermione tuned her out, as her thoughts turned back to the the man in question and his eerie similarity to Fred and George. That little fact, which had drawn her attention to Morris in the first place, had her thoughts wandering to something else. 

Nearly a year later, and the pain of losing Fred in the midst of the wizarding war was something she knew would never fade. He and his twin had become close friends to her, almost family, and Hermione felt the sorrow of knowing that she would never again have the pleasure of a prank being played on her by the infamous Weasley Twins. She vaguely recalled how devastated George had been. He'd withdrawn emotionally for awhile, but having to deal with the business of tracking down her parents and such, she had sadly been unable to offer any condolences. The last she had seen of George, before leaving for Australia, he had actually been making an effort to come to dinner at the Burrow. A good sign at least.

It was only when her cell phone buzzed in her pocket that Hermione's thoughts turned away from the lonely twin. Withdrawing the small device from her pocket, she slid her finger across the screen to open the main display. _One Message_ read at the top and pressing in the right location, she opened the text to read it.

 _Knock knock_ it read.

"Huh?" After checking and not recognizing the number, she turned to Chelsea, who was still chattering on, about what, Hermione wasn't sure. "Look at this." she said, showing her the text. "What do you think, wrong number?"

Chelsea glanced over at what Hermione was showing and at once knew who the message was from. Smiling brightly, she shrugged. "Don't know. But why don't you answer it. You know, for fun." the blonde urged.

Heaving a sigh, Hermione rolled her eyes. Chelsea was always spontaneous and suggesting things like this. It was one of the things Hermione admired about her friend. "Okay, okay." she muttered. 

Hitting the reply key, she typed _Who's there?_ and hit send.

She didn't have to wait long before she heard the ping of a response being received. 

_The one with the memory of a computerized elephant?_

Hermione blinked. _'Wait... what?'_ Looking in disbelief at her phone, Hermione tentatively texted her next reply. _Morris?_

Again, the reply took only seconds. _The one and only_. was the cheeky reply, complete with winky face.

Hermione couldn't help it. She laughed. _How did you get my number?_ she sent back, suddenly feeling a bit more chipper than she had previously been.

_Your friend was rather adamant that I have the means to contact you._

Shocked, Hermione looked up to find Chelsea grinning widely at her. "I thought-" she began, suddenly feeling ashamed of what she'd been thinking of her friend earlier. Chelsea waved her off. 

"It's alright, sweets. Just remember, I'll always have your back." she shot the brunette a wink as she pulled into Hermione's driveway. "Well, I'll leave you to your little text-fest, then, shall I?"

Hermione grinned, reaching over and giving her friend a quick hug across the console of the car. "You're the best, Chel." she declared before climbing out of the small compact car. "I'll catch you later." she called out, waiting for Chelsea to begin backing out of the drive before turning back to her phone. 

Thinking about her response, she finally settled on honesty. _And here I thought she had slipped you her number._

Ping. _Nope, it was yours. Are you upset?_

Being a bit excited about him actually texting her and not wanting him to think she was mad about the prospect of talking to him more, she typed in _Merlin no, I'm not upset at all._

By the time she realized the expression she had used, she had already hit Send.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Morris looked down at the napkin in his hand and the number written on it. He had just made it back to his small flat, which wasn't very far from the Comedy Club. It had been only ten minutes tops since the blonde woman had passed Hermione's number to him and he was very grateful she had. In the brief time that he had spent with the brown haired woman after his set had been prematurely ended, he'd found that he actually liked her.

Pressing his lips together in thought, he decided to go for it. Yes, he would contact her, but instead of simply calling her, Morris decided on another course. A way that was sure to get Hermione's attention. Grabbing his phone, Morris opened a New Text screen and typed in the phone number, followed by two simple words.

_Knock knock_

He settled back in the comfy armchair and giddily waited for her reply. It took a few moments, but finally, his phone pinged. 

_Who's there?_

"Yes!" he crowed happily, bouncing like a small child in his seat. She was playing along! Calming himself, and with a smug smile, he typed back his reply. _The one with the memory of a computerized elephant?_

His phone pinged back more quickly this time. _Morris?_

He grinned widely. _The one and only_

He paused a moment before adding a winky face for good measure, then hit send. He hoped his added emoticon gave her a good laugh. 

_How did you get my number?_ was the reply he received a few seconds later. 

_Your friend was rather adamant that I have the means to contact you._ he admitted through his next message. It took a bit longer for her to reply this time. He figured she'd been busy confronting her friend.

_And here I thought she had slipped you her number_

Oh. Had that been what she thought? Wanting to assure her, he typed Nope, it was yours. Then, a thought occurred to him. Maybe she didn't want her number given out willy nilly to some strange man. He had to be certain, so he added _Are you upset?_ before sending the message. 

_Merlin no, I'm not upset at all_

Morris did a double take as he read her reply. _'Merlin. Merlin? That's a new one. Never heard that one before.'_ he thought, amused at the choice of phrase. For some reason he couldn't help but think it was an appropriate expression.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione stared down at the screen and what she had typed in horror. How could she have been so careless? This would surely make Morris suspicious, or at the very least give him reservations in continuing any further communication with her. She was still standing on her parents' front lawn, frozen in trepidation ever since she'd hit the send button on that blasted text.

Ping.

Swallowing hard, Hermione forced her finger to hit View in order to pull up the telling text reply from Morris.

 _So... you free next Friday then?_

Hermione blinked. Had he not read her last message? How could he have missed her blatant slip up that seriously hinted at her either being off her rocker, or at the very least, not being a normal Muggle like himself?

 _Seriously?_ she texted back, not believing that he would take her seriously after her last text. 

When he replied back with _Yes, seriously_ Hermione let out a delighted laugh as relief flooded her.

 _Okay then, next Friday_ she typed. _Would you like to meet up somewhere in particular, or...?_

She left the sentence open ended, giving him the option to set the place and time for their date. 

Their date... Hermione felt a bit excited at that thought.

Ping. 

_How about the Comedy Club, around 8 following my set? We could go for ice cream or something_

Hermione had to bite her lip to keep a face-splitting grin at bay. _Sounds good_ she replied quickly. _See you then, Morris._

At his reply of _Until then, Hermione_ the brown haired witch couldn't stop the squeal of delight that erupted from her lips, nor the little bounce of joy she gave, though she felt a bit childish immediately afterward. Looking around to make sure no neighbors were up so late to witness it, she sighed when noting all the lights were doused in the surrounding houses. In fact, her parents house was the only one with a light on in the front, which was strange because normally her parents would not be up at such a late hour.

Closing out her messenger app - but not before saving Morris' number to her contacts - Hermione placed her phone back in her pocket before walking the rest of the way to the front door of her parents' house. She went to dig her key out of her bag when the front door was swung open by her mother, who met her with a soft, though a bit worry-filled smile. 

"Oh, Hermione, I'm so glad you made it back safely." her mom glanced over her shoulder into the interior of the house. 

Noticing this, Hermione frowned at her mom. "Is there something wrong?" she asked apprehensively. 

Her mother gave a small sigh as she turned back to her daughter. "It seems you have a visitor, dear."

Hermione glanced over her mother's shoulder with a worried expression. Her mom seemed to be unsettled by the visitor, which meant the visitor was of the magical sort. Hermione could understand her mother's reaction. Ever since she'd returned their memories, even though they had forgiven her completely for performing a spell on them, they were still even now adverse to all things Magical, which was another reason she'd decided to stay with them for a year, sans magic. 

“Does the visitor have a name?” Hermione started into the house while questioning her mother.

The first person she thought of was Harry, as he and the Weasleys were the only ones she had Owled to tell them of her whereabouts before leaving the Wizarding World. In anticipation of seeing her best friend and finding out why he had come to visit six months shy of the date she had set to be retrieved, Hermione hastened her pace into the living room, before her mom could reply to her inquiry.

Striding into the room, Hermione came to a sudden halt as the man standing in the middle of the room turned to face her. He was not who she had suspected, in fact, he'd been the last one she would have expected.

"George?"

~*~*~*~

tbc...


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ** _A/N:_** Okay, guys, extra long chapter this time, and I kinda hit you with a big revelation that is going to be important to the plot. That's right, this little mindless bit of crossover fluff that I started has now gained an honest to Merlin PLOTLINE! *gasps* Hopefully, I haven't stepped too far out of the realm of suspension of disbelief that you can enjoy this. Please feel free to leave a review and let me know what you guys think. ^_^

**A/N:** Okay, guys, extra long chapter this time, and I kinda hit you with a big revelation that is going to be important to the plot. That's right, this little mindless bit of crossover fluff that I started has now gained an honest to Merlin PLOTLINE! *gasps* Hopefully, I haven't stepped too far out of the realm of suspension of disbelief that you can enjoy this. Please feel free to leave a review and let me know what you guys think. ^_^

 

 **Mistaken Identity**   
**\- Chapter 4 -**

 

**_Six Months Post-Battle of Hogwarts_ **

Bill Weasley sat impatiently upon the exam table, awaiting the results of his yearly physical. The upper level goblins at Gringotts, the place where Bill worked, had sent him to a goblin healer, preferring to use their own medical magic, than wizarding, despite the red headed Curse Breaker not being a goblin himself. He was under goblin employ after all.

He really didn't see why it was necessary, as he felt in top shape, but his boss had insisted that this year the exam was to be more thorough, considering the aftermath of the war and all of the stray hexes and curses that had been cast amidst the many battles. Looking at the clock on the wall, it showed he'd been waiting in that tiny room for about twenty minutes.

Letting out a long sigh, Bill considered just laying back and taking a nap, but before he was able to follow through on his thought the goblin healer which had conducted his exam entered looking over a clipboard and grumbling to himself. 

Bill watched the diminuitive doctor approach his table, never once taking his eyes from the medical chart he held. After a moment, when the goblin had yet to address him with neither a greeting nor even the results of his tests, Bill started to become annoyed. Feeling he had been there long enough, he cleared his throat rather loudly, finally drawing the goblin's attention. 

"So, what's the diagnosis, doc?" he asked, trying to reign his irritated tone.

The goblin looked up at him pointedly. "Well, Mr. Weasley, it seems to have been a very good idea to be more thorough in our exams this year. At least in your case." the doctor grumbled, looking back down at the paper that held Bill's results.

Bill watched him read over everything once more before again trying to prompt a response.

"And...?"

"Well, it appears we have discovered a deep-seeded Obilviate curse on you, much deeper than any I've ever seen, in fact. We want to remove it in case the curse is blocking any feasible threats to Gringotts on a security level. The chance of there being a breach in protocals is a serious issue that we will not tolerate."

Bill was speechless for a moment, shock taking over at the goblin's words. An Obliviate? Deep-seeded and not noticed until just now? How could that be possible? And **_who_** had placed the curse on him? 

"But isn't the only way to remove the effects of an Obliviate curse torture?" he finally inquired, his inner-wolf stirring to growl at the implication of possible harm befalling him.

The doctor shook his bulbous head, giving him as much of a reassuring look that a goblin was capable. "Actually no, there's been a new break through recently in the medical field on our end regarding the removal of the Obliviate." he stated a bit proudly. It was something that the goblins had managed to do before the medi-witches and wizards of St Mungos had. "We can remove the effects as well as heal any minor damage that might have occurred. Major damage will be a bit more difficult, mind, but still within the realm of our capabilities." the goblin, as well as Bill, frowned at this. "Since this is, as I said, a deep-seeded Obliviate, there is a chance of there being some damage. But I promise you that we will do our utmost to take care of this in the most safe and efficient manner."

Fear of possible complications in the procedure, combined with panic at what the curse could be causing him to forget prompted the demi-wolf to come to a decision. "Do it now." he said sharply, pinning the small creature with a look of determination.

The goblin healer directed Bill to another room where the delicate procedure could be conducted more comfortably. After having him lie back onto a bed, the little goblin positioned himself so that he could place his hands close to either side of the the wizard's head, near, but not yet touching his temples.

"Now, Mr. Weasley, I ask that you try to relax as much as possible. I cannot guarantee this will go smoothly," the goblin warned. 

"Just get on with it," the eldest Weasley son growled.

The healer grumbled under his breath, hovering above the wizard, focusing at the task at hand. For a moment, Bill could only sense a warming sensation near his ears where the goblin's hands had began to glow, then his body stiffened as a jolting sensation pierced his skull, seeming to dig down into his very brain. He gritted his teeth, writhing against the sharp pain, which caused the goblin medic to snap at his assistant to give the human something to sedate him. A few moments later Bill's eyelids began to grow heavy until, finally, he was unable to keep them open. As his eyes closed, shutting off his view to the present world, his mind opened up, presenting him with a vision of the past.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 _A hospital room bled into existence around him, though it was unlike the one his physical body was laying in. The memory room was more like the ones found at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, and from his vantage point near the door, Bill saw that the room's bed was occupied._

_His eyes grew wide in shock when he realized that the person laying on the bed was none other than a younger version of his mother, Molly, and she was heavily pregnant. Bill watched, fascinated, as a younger version of his father stepped forward and took hold of his wife's hand. Bringing it to his lips, Arthur Weasley kissed Molly's hand tenderly before bringing the hand to his chest and cradling it against his heart._

_As Bill watched, Arthur turned in his direction and beckoned with his free hand. "Come see your mother, son."_

_Bill was startled as a tiny figure moved through him. He instantly recognized his seven year old self, as he made his way towards his mother's bed. Glancing around the room, he spotted little Charlie, sitting nearby, playing with a bag full of toy animals. The little figurines that had been charmed to move about on their own were currently marching in a little parade around the laughing five year old. Not far from Charlie was Percy, who even at two years of age, excelled at everything he did. The toddler was busy coloring on a piece of paper what looked to be a family portrait of the Weasleys and their soon-to-be newest additions._

_Turning back, Bill saw that his younger self had climbed up onto the bed next to his Mum, talking to her tummy cheerfully._

_"I'm your big brother, Bill. I'm going to look out for you, just like I do with Charlie and Percy. I can't wait to meet you," he heard himself whisper before placing three small kisses on Molly's swollen belly._

_Bill remembered this. It was the day the twins had been born. But that couldn't be right..., this was supposed to be a blocked memory. It made no sense that he was witnessing a memory that hadn't been blocked in the first place. Unless... there was something that had happened during the twins' birth that had been locked away?_

_"Oh, my sweet, sweet boy, are you excited to meet the new babies?" Molly asked, looking down at her oldest son with a smile. The Memory version of himself nodded, a wide grin on his tiny face._

_The memory shifted a bit as it progressed, and suddenly Molly was sitting up in her bed as she cuddled two tiny sleeping babies in her arms. Adult Bill grinned to himself, as he was certain that this had to have been the last time the twins had ever been this quiet._

_“Aren't they perfect, Molls?”_

_Drawn by the sound of his father's voice, Bill looked around and suddenly the memory rippled. As if a veil had been parted and drawn back, a scene was revealed to the Curse Breaker that he did not remember seeing on the day of his twin brothers' birth._

_Arthur Weasely was sitting in a chair not far from his wife's bed, a large smile on his face and a small bundle in his arms. Bill looked slowly back and forth between his mother and father. Three? There were **three** of them?_

_Once again the memory rippled and Bill watched as his parents were again cuddling the three babies in their arms. Arthur perched on the edge of the bed, holding his bundle over so that the smaller him who was settled beside his mum could see while little Charlie and Percy napped on a cot in the corner._

_“Oh, Arthur, they're just perfect! Our little Fredrick and George." Molly gushed as she held her two bundles close._

_"And our precious Harold," his father added, placing a tender kiss to the forehead of the newborn in his arms. "Can't forget about him, my dear."_

_"Of course not," Molly chuckled, her eyes gazing lovingly down at little Harold, slumbering peacefully._

_Bill was still wrapping his mind around this. Three babies, not twins but triplets, but where was... Had he not lived?_

_As Adult Bill continued reeling at the revelation he'd just discovered, the door to the hospital room opened and four men in Ministry robes entered. Harold Minchum, the current Minister of Magic at the time of the twins' birth, appeared, flanked by the then Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Bartemius Crouch Sr. and an Auror Bill did not recognize. The fourth man also wore Ministry robes, but Bill could not tell from which Department he hailed._

_"Minister Minchum? You honor us with your presence, sir." Arthur beamed as he rose from the bed, offering a welcoming smile at such an important visitor._

_Bill's eyebrows furrowed as once again, this was not in his original memory. What could they want?_

_The Minister did not return his father's smile, instead he gestured to Crouch, who was holding a parchment that he immediately began to read._

_"Arthur and Molly Weasley, it has been brought to the attention of the Wizengamot that you are in breach of Ministral decree number 343 in which it clearly states that any births resulting in more than two live offspring at once is prohibited. As such, it is demanded that the third child born into the same family on the same day shall be henceforth relinquished into custody of the Ministry's Child Services where they shall be placed until properly dealt with." he began to roll up the decree as he continued. "Therefore, you are hereby ordered to surrender the last born child immediately."_

_From her hospital bed, Molly cried out in dismay, her eyes growing wide as they instantly shot to the small bundle in her husband's arms. Arthur's own eyes narrowed in anger at the man who had dared make such a demand of him._

_“Whatever for? These are **our** children and we will do no such thing!” the elder Weasley proclaimed as he held the baby in his arms closer._

_Bill had never seen his father so disobedient of a Ministry official before, let alone in the presence of the Minister of Magic himself._

_Bartemius scoffed at the insolence being displayed. “By order of the Ministry of Magic and myself, I order you to hand over that child.”_

_In horror, Bill watched as the unknown man stepped forward and reached to take baby Harold from Arthur's arms. His Memory self, who was still beside his mother on the bed, was trying his best to comfort a now crying Molly while the commotion had awoken the two younger Weasely sons. They sat on their small cot, watching in confusion._

_“No!” Molly sobbed as she tried to get up, but was unable to due to Fred and George in her arms._

_Arthur reached forward to take the baby back, but was Stupefied by the other man dressed in Auror robes before he was able to get a hold of his son._

_As her husband lay incapacitated on the hospital floor, Molly pleaded with the Minister as the twins began to sense their mother's upset and began to squall._

_“My baby!" she sobbed, "You cannot take my child! This is **inhumane**!”_

_“It's the law," the Minister stated coldly. "I made sure it passed myself. The power of three is too dangerous to be allowed to exist with You Know Who rising in power."_

_“How can you expect us to just let you do this?” Molly asked them, desperation straining her voice._

_The Minister seemed to be growing tired of being defied. "I didn't expect you to simply let us do it." he said coldly. Turning to the Auror, he gave one simple order before stalking out of the room. "Obliviate the lot of them." he growled. The official who held baby Harold -- who was now crying as loudly as Fred and George -- followed quickly behind Minchum._

_Adult Bill's horror grew, if at that point it was even possible, as he watched wands being withdrawn from holsters and pointed at the younger Weasley clan._

_Molly had called Percy and Charlie, her eyes never leaving the wands being pointed at her entire family. Arthur, still prone on the floor from the Stupify he'd been hit with, was making sounds of protest as a look of fear filled his eyes. Adult Bill felt sick to his stomach as he watched in complete mortification._

_"Obliviate!"_

~*~*~*~*~

Bill bolted upright in the small bed, regretting the action instantly as a wave of pain accompanied by nausea assaulted him. It forced him to lie back down, a deep groan of discomfort escaping his lips as he did so. Movement to his left alerted him to the presence of someone else in the room. Then the someone spoke, identifying himself.

"Careful, Mr Weasley, you will be suffering from one of the side-effects of the Obliviate removal for a bit longer now that you are conscious. Unfortunately, we ended up having to sedate you due to your rather unexpected thrashing about. Although, despite the anesthetic, you were still quite mobile. Whatever memory we unearthed when we removed the curse must have been quite shocking to you."

Bill managed to grit through the pain in order to look over to see the goblin who had been the healer for his physical and consequent operation that had been prompted by the results of said exam.

Slowly, through the piercing discomfort of the headache he was experiencing, the images that he could now recall from the forgotten memory began to emerge.

 _'How dare they!'_ his inner wolf howled as he remembered everything.

The healer at his side caught the red headed wizard's attention then as the goblin positioned a portable table beside his bed. "Now that we have removed the Obliviate, Mr. Weasley, we must view the buried memory to make sure there are no threats to ourselves or our business." 

"This is not in anyway a threat to you," Bill assured the goblin. "In fact, it's extremely personal."

"Forgive me if I don't take your word for it, Mr. Weasley." the goblin chuckled humorlessly. "But don't worry, we goblins have a way to extract and view the memory. We will return it afterward, I assure you."

Bill nodded. "Okay, fine. Let's get this over with. I have somewhere important to be." 

Bill was still shook up from the realization that he had another brother out there somewhere. His only thought was to get back to the Burrow as soon as possible, find the nearest available Pensieve, and show his parents the memory that hopefully would not send them both into cardiac arrest.

Not long afterward, the goblin was finally satisfied that there was nothing in the human's memory that endangered their security, and Bill quickly hurried towards the nearest floo. With a flourish of floo powder and a clear cry of "The Burrow," Bill was stumbling out of the fireplace and into the living room of his childhood home.

Bill ignored the looks of curiosity that he received from his youngest two siblings who -- at the moment -- were in the middle of a game of Wizard's Chess.

"Where's Harry?" the eldest son demanded, looking to his youngest brother. If anyone knew where Harry was it would be Ron, as he and the dark haired boy were best friends.

"He just floo'd over to Grimmauld for something." Ron replied, turning back to the chess board just as Ginny's knight took out one of her brother's pawns.

Ignoring Ron's loud exclamation, Bill used his wand to cast an Incendio spell to start a small fire in the hearth so be could make a floo call to Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Once the flames were roaring, he sprinkled a small amount of floo powder into them. The flames instantly flared up, turning a bright blue color before Bill leaned forward into them.

"Harry! Harry, are you there?" he called out. "I need you to do me an important favor."

By now Molly had entered in from the kitchen, where she had been busy preparing dinner, a worried expression on her face.

"What's this now? Bill, what's going on? I wasn't expecting you until later? And where is Fleur?" the Weasley matriarch asked her eldest son, though he still had his head and shoulders buried in the fireplace. Holding up a hand to let his mother know he would address her in a moment, he instead spoke to Harry who had just appeared in his own living room on the other side.

"Hey, Bill," Harry greeted with a smile that was half cheerful, half confused, as he had no idea what Ron's oldest brother could want from him. "What sort of favor do you need? You know I'll help in any way I can." 

"I need to borrow your Pensieve," Bill replied automatically. "Would you mind bringing it to the Burrow as quickly as possible? It's a bit of an emergency."

"Of course," Harry agreed, and Bill withdrew from the hearth to finally address his mother. 

"Mum, I need you to go get dad and Percy. Tell them there's a family emergency and that they need to come home. Now." Bill informed his mother.

Molly was staring at him with her hands planted firmly on her hips. "Not until you tell me what this is about, William." she demanded in the stern tone she always used, however, it failed to work on her son this time.

"No, mum, I need you to do this _**now**_. I'll explain everything once dad, Percy and Harry arrive." he commanded.

As Molly went to do as he had instructed, Bill turned back to Ginny and Ron, who by this point had abandoned their game and were staring at their older brother in concern. "Where's George?" he asked them.

Both Ginny and Ron responded by giving him looks that asked if he had lost his mind as they pointed up. George had basically turned into a hermit after the death of his twin, and had moved to the family attic to avoid sleeping in their old room. 

“Of course.” Bill murmured to himself. 

He wondered if he should wait on informing George about this, or gather him along with the others. Charlie was back in Romania, so he would definitely have to be filled in later, but George was here, though not in the best place mentally. Would this news perhaps help to heal the grieving twin, or would it devastate him even more?

At that moment, a resounding crack sounded outside the Burrow as Harry Apparated in the front yard. Bill ushered the Boy-Who-Lived into the house and after he had pulled a tiny Pensieve out of his pocket, the dark haired wizard cast a counter spell to reverse the shrinking charm he had used in order to transport the object. The two men were setting everything up just as Molly and her husband, along with Percy came back through the floo.

"Now, William, will you **_please_** get on with it and tell us what is so important?" Molly fumed, now thoroughly fed up with not knowing what was going on.

Bill hesitated a moment, but then decided that a more delicate approach would be needed when it came to filling in George about the existence of a triplet that he'd never known he had. Especially in the wake of the recent loss of Fred. Sighing, Bill turned back to his family as he kicked off the explanation for why he had gathered them and why it was so important. 

"Okay, so I went for my yearly physical today," he began, but was interrupted by a gasp from his mother.

"Oh, dear Merlin, please tell me you're not ill!" she implored, her voice filling with concern.

"No, mother, nothing like that," Bill assured the panicking woman. "Although they did find something amiss in their scans." Meeting his father's eyes, he continued. "Apparently, I was submitted to an Obliviate curse." at everyone's gasps of shock, Bill held up a hand, signaling there was more.

“I understand the shock, but after the memory was unblocked I discovered that I wasn't the only one to be placed under the spell.” he told them as he glanced around the room at his family. 

From within the arms of her husband, Molly was staring at Bill with confusion. The same emotion was reflected in the faces of Ron, Ginny and Harry.

Percy glanced from the Pensieve to his oldest brother. “Who else?” the third eldest brother asked, pinning Bill with a look. 

With a sigh, Bill ran his hand through his hair. Should he tell them? To be honest, he had been grateful that he'd been forewarned about the curse. 

“Mum, Dad, Charlie and you.” he answered, looking at Percy. 

Molly's hand flew to her mouth as she let our a gasp. 

“Dad, maybe you should go first." Bill suggested, "You might be able to help Mum comprehend the information better if you know what it is.” Motioning his dad forward, the eldest Weasley son withdrew the wispy memory from his mind and placed it in the Pensieve. 

Arthur slowly stepped forward to the basin, lowering his face into the liquid. The room was eerily silent for the next few moments as Arthur Weasley was immersed in the memory. When he finally withdrew, it was sudden and the older Weasley stumbled backwards, a devastated expression on his face and tears filling his normally shining eyes.

"Molly-wobbles..." he muttered feebly at his wife, who gave him a fearful look before she approached the Pensieve.

As Bill had predicted, Molly had turned into a hysterical mess upon learning of Harold’s existence and Arthur was now holding his sobbing wife as she muttered curses about the previous Minister of Magic. 

Bill motioned Percy forward, who took his turn, eventually coming out of the memory with an ashen look of shock. Not wanting to be left out, Ron jumped up and stuck his head into the basin next.

“I was going to let everyone have a go Ron.” Bill muttered at his youngest brother's back with a roll of his eyes.

Ron stepped back from the Pensieve after he had viewed the memory, his face screwed up in a mixture of fury and disgust. “Bloody hell, those great prats.” he growled. 

Bill gave Ginny a slight nudge, as the youngest Weasley had yet to move toward the Pensieve. After the reactions that the rest of her family had had, she wasn't too eager to see what vision lay within the silvery liquid. Taking a deep breath, she finally dove in, remaining within the depths of the basin until the memory had played through. When she emerged, her look of rage practically matched that of Ron's. 

“Those bastards!” she had shouted, and for once her mother did not scold her.

“Harry, you should see this as well, you're family after all.” Bill said to the last boy in the room, while motioning to the Pensieve. 

Harry shot a small smile at the older man before he too submitted to watching Bill's memory play out. Much as Arthur did before him, Harry jerked back with enough force that he stumbled backwards and bumped into Ginny after he had watched the memory. 

The Weasleys all glanced around at one another, not knowing what to say to express their anguish. Molly's sobbing had died down some but she still had tears streaming down her face. Arthur held her to him tightly in order to stay his own shaking hands.

“Does Charlie know?” Ginny asked. 

“I Owled him, asking him to come home as soon as he could.” Bill answered, shaking his head sadly. 

“So... the only person left is...” Percy's voice trailed off weakly. 

Everyone present slowly raised their heads up to look toward the floors above, towards the little attic room that held a grieving George Weasley. 

~*~*~*~*~

tbc...


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note:** Sorry that it's taken so long to get this chapter out. I had hoped the last chapter of this and Semper Vigilans would have garnered alot more reviews than they did and it sort of put me in a writing funk. Plus I wound up getting sick for about a week and didn't do ANYTHING, much less write, during that time. This chapter isn't exactly how I wanted it, but I really want to get back to working on the next chapter of Semper, so I'm going to leave it as is and hope you all enjoy it.

**Mistaken Identity**   
**\- Chapter 5 -**

 

William Weasley stood at the bottom of the stairs, glancing up toward the closed door that sat at the top, leading to the attic his younger brother had chosen as his place of mourning. A trembling hand delved into his pocket, fingers closing around the shrunken Pensieve held within.

He had reasoned with the rest of the family that it was a good idea if George were to have less of an audience when he viewed the memory and they had all agreed, save Molly who was loudly insistent that she should be there to comfort her baby. But Arthur had been gentle, yet firm, in telling her to just let Bill handle it. He had been thankful for his father's intervention, knowing that it would more than likely be -- if not easier, then at least less traumatic -- for the twin. 

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Bill began to ascend the stairs. He tapped lightly on the door, then, a bit more forcefully, when he received no response. Finally, he heard the sound of sluggish movement from within, followed by the sound of a lock being released. The door cracked open a bit, allowing a pair of blue eyes dulled by heartbreak and grief to peer out at him. 

Bill's heart ached at the sight. The only thing he had ever recalled seeing in George's eyes was mischief and joy, never this void of despair. 

"George," he greeted him gently, as if speaking to a skittish animal he was trying to catch. "May I come in?"

George just stared at him for a moment, his haunted gaze not really focusing on the sibling before him. Finally, he stepped back, opening the door a fraction wider in silent invitation, before turning and going back to the small cot set up in the far corner. The room was still dusty, as he hadn't allowed his mother to clean it before he had sequestered himself away. His only companion was the ghoul that had -- up until six months ago -- wandered freely about the attic.

Now, the creature was bound with a permanent sticking charm to a wall in the small attic closet.

George collapsed into the cot, the rusty springs making an awful sound, like the screaming of a baby Mandrake, and Bill cringed. 

Bill pondered how to approach the grieving twin about the memory. He could start off with the same approach that he had used on the rest of the family, but there was the chance that the other boy would tune him out altogether.

"Hey, Georgie, there's something I want you to look at, okay? I know it's going to be tough to proccess it, but just remember that I'm here for you." the older brother spoke softly as he pulled the shrunken Pensieve from his pocket and proceeded to set it up.

After he was done preparing the Pensieve, he turned back to George. The other boy hadn't even moved from his spot on the cot. Bill gave a silent sigh before walking over and grabbing the other boy by the shoulders and hauling him to his feet, almost dragging his younger brother across the floor for all the help he was not getting.

"This would go alot faster if you moved your feet, little brother." Bill gave a groan as he hefted hm the last few feet to the basin, resigning himself to what he had to do next. 

"Sorry, Georgie," he muttered as he all but dunked the other boy's head into the liquid. 

George struggled for a brief moment before stilling as the memory took hold. Breathing a sigh, Bill released the twin and moved to sit on the now vacant cot.

Time seemed to pass more slowly than when the rest of the family had viewed the memory, or it could have just been the fact that Bill was more worried about what George's reaction would be. After what felt like an eternity, George stumbled back from the Pensieve slightly before recovering his footing. Since his back was to Bill, the older Weasley could not yet tell how the memory had been received.

Standing slowly, Bill reached out to place a hand on the other boy's shoulder. “Georgie?” he called gently.

George whirled around quickly, more quickly than he had moved in months, and stared at him. Not since since that day in the Great Hall, when they had cried over Fred's fallen form, had Bill witnessed the spark that as now in his brother's eyes. A look of pure determination had replaced the lifeless gaze that his younger sibling had come to be known for. 

“We have to find him.” George rasped, the demand coming from a voice that had been used less and less as the months passed. 

Bill gave a nod before replying, “We will.”

George returned the nod before moving to grab his wand. Casting a freshening charm on himself and his clothes, as he hadn't had a proper bath in some days (he would take care of that later, as now he had something more important to take care of), he turned to Bill. "I reckon a talk with Kingsley would be a good place to start, yeah?"

Bill was shocked as George took the lead and almost ran from the room toward the stairs.

“Well he's taking it better than I thought.” Bill mused to himself before extracting his memory from the Pensieve and following the twin out of the room.

Bill raced down the stairs and into the living room were Molly had already engulfed George into a crushing embrace. Everyone else present was watching with shock evident on their face. They apparently hadn't expected George to leave the attic anytime soon.

"My precious boy," Molly was babbling into George's good eat as she clung to him tightly. 

George allowed it for a moment before drawing back to look at his mother, then his gaze drifted over the rest of the family. 

"We're going to the Ministry to speak with Kingsley." George spoke and from behind him Bill watched in awe the change that had overcome the twin. It was miraculous and he had to swallow back the tears that were threatening to form.

"You sure that's a good idea?" Ron questioned. When everyone looked at him, he shrugged before continuing. "Just saying. It was the Minister of Magic that did this in the first place. I'm sure that law is still in effect and all they'll probably do is Obliviate the lot of us again."

Percy was shaking his head. “I never saw that law when working under Fudge. Maybe it was just some personal vendetta that Minchum had.” the undersecretary said.

But Ron wasn't convinced. "Even so, we don't even know what they did with him. It's been over twenty years, not counting the war business" he turned his eyes downward, unable to look at George as he added, "How do we even know he's still alive?"

"He is," the firmly insistent response from George surprised everyone. All eyes turned to stare at him as he in turn stared at Ron, as he emphatically continued. "I know he is. I can feel it."

Ever since he'd viewed the memory, and had been made aware of Harold's existence, George had felt as if a link he had thought long dead was resurrected. Suddenly, he could sense his other sibling in the same way he had felt Fred.

The sorrow he felt due to Fred's loss made a come back and George was momentarily doused with sadness. Then the memory of a triplet that was alive and just waiting to be found again subdued the pain long enough for him to focus on what had to be done.

Percy was already gathering his cloak as Arthur held a shawl for Molly before donning his own cloak. "We'll be joining you, son." his father said to George. "Ron, you and Ginny stay here with Harry. We're going to get this sorted. Have these Obliviates removed and see what information we can wrest from the Ministry."

“Oi! Why do we have to stay behind, he is our brother too! Plus it might not hurt to have two of the members of The Golden Trio at your side.” Ron argued. 

“Ron, no offense, but the Golden Trio can't fix everything.” Bill interjected, trying to be as reasonable as possible. He knew how Ron could get when he thought he was being left out. 

Ron looked as if he wanted to protest, but with a few whispered words from Harry, he finally nodded, though a bit begrudgingly. 

The Weasleys exited the Floo Network and entered the Ministry's main lobby and Arthur immediately began leading everyone in the direction of the lifts that would take them to the Minister's office. After the rather erratic ride, the five exited on the correct floor and walked down the corridor toward the door which had a plaque stating _'Minister of Magic - Kingsley Shacklebolt'_ in the center.

Percy entered the office first, seeing as he had been reinstated as the Minister of Magic's undersecretary once Shacklebolt had been appointed. Kingsley looked up from the stack of parchments he had been looking over as the door opened, and upon seeing Percy enter, offered a polite smile.

"Ah, Percy. I wasn't expecting you back so soon." the Minister began, but paused when Arthur, Molly and Bill entered the room as well. With a look of curiosity, the dark skinned man continued. "Does this impromptu visit have anything to do with the family emergency you left to attend to earlier?"

“It does, sir. We actually needed to talk with you about that.” Percy replied, ushering his parents and brothers into the room.

Kingsley gestured to a pair of chairs in front of his desk for Molly and Arthur to sit in while Bill summoned three more for himself, George and Percy. Once the four were settled, Bill proceeded to tell the Minister what had been uncovered at his physical that morning and everything that had transpired since. He then produced the memory for the Minister to view for himself, though Kingsley had argued that it was unneeded. He had no reason to doubt a Weasley's word, not after everything the family had done to help aide in the war. Bill had insisted, however, and the new Minister of Magic could not hold back his shock nor his outrage at such a blatant abuse of power on Minchum's part. 

Once he had been appointed the position, Kingsley had been made aware of what some what of the former Ministers had attempted to pull, but this had never been brought to his attention. He informed the Weasleys that he would look into this insane law and if it hadn't already been abolished, he would make certain that it was. He also gave them unrestricted access to any files that they needed to help in their search for their missing family member.

"I'll have to warn you, Arthur," Shacklebolt cautioned. "You are aware that sections of the Ministry suffered damage during the Death Eater take over at the beginning of the war." at the Weasley patriarch's nod, he continued forlornly. "It just so happens that the section that housed the Child Welfare office took the most damage. Most everything in that area was all but destroyed during the chaos."

"Oh, no," Molly looked on the verge of tears again, but a hand settled onto her shoulder and gave a comforting squeeze. Molly gripped it in appreciation, looking up and realized it was George who was offering the gesture. Pride swelled within her at the courage her beautiful son was showing.

"We'll take whatever we can get, Kings." George's voice was less rusty now that it was being used more frequently. "Just show us where to start."

The dark-skinned man stood from behind his desk, rounding it and gestured for the five red heads to follow him. Through various corridors and a number of lifts, they finally emerged into a section of the building that could be considered - even though it was still under heavy construction - a disaster area.

"Any and all files that were the least bit recoverable have been placed over there." Kingsley gestured to a more ordered area where files had been stacked as neatly as possible amidst the rubble. "You can go through those while I see about rounding up any remaining staff that might have been appointed to this department." turning to leave, he looked back to add: "Good luck, and I hope you find something useful.” With that, Kingsley bid them farewell before the family turned to look at the pile of parchments. 

George was the first one to dive into the paper work, Bill and Percy quickly following their brother's lead, as did Molly and Arthur. Sadly, Kingsley had been correct in the amount of damage the documents had sustained. There was hardly anything complete and what bits they could piece together for the week of April 1st 1978 was random at best.

"This is going to take a while." Bill said, shaking his head as he tried to read a particularly singed piece of parchment.

The Weasley clan filtered through what they could of what was left in the debris that was the Department of Welfare for Magical Children, but came up with next to nothing. Ron and Ginny, along with Harry, had joined them in the search. When Charlie had finally made it down from Romania a couple days later, he with Percy, Molly and Arthur had gone to have their Obliviates removed by the same goblin healer that had removed Bill's. With the memory now entirely their own, it hit the close knit family all the harder and ratcheted their determination to find their lost loved one up ten-fold. 

Through their search, they found a few partial pages with a reference to a Harold Weasley and their hearts had leaped for joy before finally realizing that most of the pertinent information had been unreadable and no amount of reparos could restore the document. For weeks the entire clan combed through what they could. 

Their progress was slowly winding down to nothing, after all the weeks of searching they had uncovered no important information. Harold Weasely was just a name on papers that led them no closer to finding the missing man. 

“This is so ridiculous, we've been coming up empty for weeks now.” Ron muttered as he threw yet another partially readable paper to the side when he made out that it was for a little girl. 

The whole family was scattered around the pile of documents that were left. Harry and Ginny were off to one side sorting through a stack that was almost four feet tall. Molly and Arthur were going back over the parchments that had been connected to Harold. Bill and Charlie each had their own stacks almost as tall had Harry's and Ginny's and Percy had been going back and forth between work and helping the family in the search. Kingsley had been helping them whenever he could. 

George had set up a small fort of papers to go through. He was working almost non-stop on it. He had even fallen asleep more than once in the department, as he searched for his lost brother. 

They had been unable to talk to anyone who would have been employed in Department of Welfare for Magical Children at the time that the triplets had been born, which hindered their search a good deal. Seems that anyone who would have been able to help them were either dead, missing or had been discovered as loyalist to Voldemort.

It was nearing the six months mark from when Bill had first recovered the memory of Harold Weasley's existence that they finally got a lead. After months of dead ends and heartache, one of Kingsley's officials entered the room where the Weasley clan had once again gathered to inform them that had been employed in the DoMCW at the time of Harold's birth, had been located.

"There's just one catch," the grey haired wizard stated. "Isadore Grimm was a supporter of You Know Who and is currently serving a sentence in Azkaban. If you wish to speak to her to find out what, if anything, she knows, you will have to do so there."

It was decided that Molly and Arthur be the ones to go to the Wizarding Prison to confront Isadore Grimm. The woman had apparently been a case worker in the department and everyone was hoping she held the key to finding Harold.

Molly glanced around at the stoned walls of Azkaban and shivered. It truly was a dreadful place to visit, much less have to stay in, unless the person deserved the fate of occupying one of the dingy cells, like most of the prisoners here. 

Arthur reached back and grabbed Molly's hand in a comforting manner as he, too, could feel the unease and despair that rolled through the air.

One of the specially trained Aurors that was now the new guards at the Wizarding prison lead the couple through a stretch of cells until they reached one at the very end of the hall. A small form was huddled near the back of the cell, clothed in a shapeless dress that was in need of washing, but at least it wasn't rags like the former inmates had been forced to wear under the prior Minister of Magic's term.

Arthur stepped forward, clearing his throat and began as polite a tone as he could muster. "Mrs. Grimm? My name is Arthur Weasley. My wife, Molly and myself are here because we were told that you used to work in the Department of the Welfare of Magical Children during Harold Minchum's time as Minister." 

The entire time that he spoke, the figure remained huddled near the back of the cell, not even bothering to turn and face who was speaking to her.

After a moment and no response, Arthur continued. "There was a case that involved our son, Harold Weasley. We're hoping you can help us find information on where he is. You see, he was born on April 1, 1978, the same time as our other two sons, George and... and Fred." Arthur clutched Molly to him for support. "They were triplets and Minister Minchum apparently had a problem with that."

Molly took over after Arthur's voice failed to gain the cell's inhabitant's attention, hoping that perhaps a female voice would have a better result. "Mrs. Grimm, I know it has been a while, but, if there is any information you could give us on the whereabouts of our Harold? Anything at all..." 

The huddled form shifted finally, turning over on the material that had been heaped together to form a pallet and faced Molly and Arthur. The woman's face was void of expression, neither anger, sadness, or despair was present in her eyes. There was only acquiescence. Rising to her feet, Isadore Grimm swayed a bit as she made her way closer to the bars that separated her from her visitors.

"Ah, so you're the couple that fell victim to the reign of Heretic Harold, are you?" the incarcerated witch cackled.

Molly and Arthur shared a look. “We were the only ones he did this to?” Molly asked softly. 

Isadore nodded her head slightly before verbally answering. “You were the only couple that had triplets under his reign. You see, old Minchum had a severe case of Triskaphobia, which is a phobia of the number three. He would never have anything to do with it. Never went to any of the floors with the number three in it. He was a nutter, that's for sure.” 

“Please, Mrs. Grimm, is there anything you remember about our boy? Where he ended up? If he was alive?” Molly pleaded with the woman. It was a long shot, but Molly was hoping a little woman to woman chat would help them gain information. 

“I wasn't assigned that that particular case, so I don't know the specifics." Isadore began, giving Molly an apologetic look. Well, as much of an apologetic look as a Voldemort supporter could give. "I just know that he was around two when he came through our Department. As far as anyone knew, he'd been kept elsewhere since his birth, but Heretic Harold brought him in and signed all the necessary papers just before the end of his term. I believe I heard him order some charms be put into place to alter the boy's appearance before placing him in Muggle adoption system. I didn't catch the name of the institute or where it was located, I'm sorry."

Molly's gasping sobs echoed off the stone walls as her husband thanked Isadore Grimm before gently leading his wife out and away from the prison. 

"Oh, Arthur, we'll never find him now!" Molly bawled into the front of her husband's robe after he had Apparated them into the front yard at the Burrow. The door to the house was thrown open and George came running. The rest of the family came rushing out behind him in their anxiousness to hear of any new leads. George's hopeful look dimmed when he saw his mother crying. He gave a wordless look to his father, who answered with a solemn shake of his head.

"I'm sorry, son. The only thing new we learned wasn't useful at all. In fact, it more than likely will make it impossible to find your brother now." he explained sadly.

"What did you find out." George asked insistently. He **_needed_** to know.

"That horrible man kept him hidden away for two years." Molly's voice trembled as she spoke. "Right up until he was about to go out of office, he did. Then he put our little boy into some Muggle orphanage and we don't know where." 

Everyone was silent at hearing this. It seemed as though their search had reached a fruitless end, that is until Harry spoke up. 

I bet Hermione could help us." The Boy Who Lived stated from within the circle of red heads. "If he's somewhere in the Muggle world, then she would probably have at least some idea of where to look."

Ron and Ginny both nodded in agreement, while the rest of the Weasleys, especially George, looked positively ecstatic at the bolstering of hope.

"Is that a good idea, though?" Percy asked, drawing everyone's attention. "I mean, she specifically told us all that she didn't want to be bothered by anything Magical for the next year while she reconnected with her parents." 

"You're kidding, right?" Ron asked, staring in disbelief at Percy. "This is 'Mione we're talking about. Of course she'll want to help. We're like family to her."

Percy frowned at his youngest brother. "That's not what I was saying, Ronald." he snapped. "I just meant that she had asked not to be disturbed. I know she would want to help, that's the way Hermione is."

"I'll go ask her."

Everyone in the yard turned in sync to look at George, who had surprisingly been the one to make the offer.

"Er, George, I think Harry or I should go. We are her best mates, after all." Ron said, even though Harry didn't look like he cared who went, as long as _**someone**_ did.

George shook his head, his eyes holding a determined look. "No. I'm going. If anyone is going to be there when we find him, it's going to be me."

Ron looked like he might argue, but a touch and a shake of the head from Harry made him back down. Molly and Arthur gathered George into their arms and hugged their son for a moment before the former prankster pulled back and turned to Bill.

"Can I borrow that memory of yours Bill?" he asked, and when Bill nodded, turned to Harry. "And the Pensieve?" Harry nodded as well and within a few moments George was Apparating away to the Granger residence.

~*~*~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Note:** Well, hopefully this answered some of your questions about last chapter if you had any. There's still more that needs to be explained but that will come in due time. Next chapter we shall get back to where we left off in chapter 3! Finally, some George/Hermione interaction! And more on Morris and his life as well. ^_^


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note:** Hi everyone! This chapter pretty much wrote itself, I'm so happy with how it came out. Hopefully, you guys will leave me nice comments and let me know whether you like it or not. I'll do my best to update Semper next, and as soon as possible. Thanks for the support and kind words. And now, on to our next chapter!

**Mistaken Identity**   
**\- Chapter 6 -**

 

"George?"

Hermione stared in shock at the Weasley twin who was in turn staring back at her, an intense look on his face. It was such a change from the devastated expression she remembered seeing grace his handsome face the last time she'd seen him. It was definitely different from the mischievous expression from before the war, when he'd had Fred by his side as the duo played pranks on friends and foe alike. It was a serious expression, one Hermione could only ever recall seeing grace a Weasley twins' face but once before.

"Granger." George greeted her, shifting slightly in discomfort now that he was in the presence of the witch he'd come to speak with.

"What are you doing here?" she blurted, then blushed as she realized how rude that had sounded. "I'm sorry, that was inhospitable of me. What I meant to say was... It's nice to see you, George."

"You too, Granger, though I'm not here for a social visit." he admitted as he moved to stand in front of her. "The truth is, I need... well, we Weasley's need your help." 

"My help with what?" she inquired, a look of confusion replacing the one of shock upon Hermione's features. She was thankful her mother had not followed her into the room, given her privacy to converse with her magical guest.

George licked his lips, his gaze lowering to where his hand was withdrawing something from the pocket of his trousers. A Pensieve. More specifically, Harry's Pensieve. Hermione's brow creased in confusion, why would he have Harry's Pensieve? 

“George...” she started to ask him, when he cut her off. 

“Harry loaned it to me. I needed to show you this, Hermione. So you would understand why we need your help.” he explained, looking back up at her.

Hermione's interest is piqued further and she motioned for him to proceed in setting up the Pensieve. Once he was done, she wasted no time in diving into the floating memory. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_Hermione found herself a bit disoriented as she submerged herself in the memory George was insistent that she needed to see. She took a little time to get acclimated before looking around to find herself standing in the middle of what looked to be a hospital room. A bouquet of flowers were in a vase on a nearby table, three foil balloons floating above the colorful arrangement, each shiny blue surface proclaiming 'It's A Boy!'_

_Not too far away, an occupied hospital bed drew the brown haired witch's attention and Hermione blinked as she recognized Mrs. Weasley, albeit quite a few years younger than the last time she'd seen the Weasley matriarch. The red haired woman was also evidently pregnant, so obviously she was to bear witness to one of the Weasley brood._

_'But which one' Hermione wondered to herself._

_A younger version of Mr. Weasley approached his bed-ridden wife, taking her hand and kissing it tenderly before bringing it to his chest to cradle against his heart. Hermione sighed at the loving gesture. She recognized the absolute love that radiated from the older couple and it seemed that it hadn't faded throughout their many years and children together._

_Hermione watched as the young memory Arthur turned to summon someone to them. "Come see your mother, son." he said gently, and Hermione watched as a small child with the same shock of red hair as his father made his way over. The child climbed onto the bed beside Molly and began to speak softly to his mother's swollen stomach._

_"I'm your big brother, Bill. I'm going to look out for you, just like I do with Charlie and Percy. I can't wait to meet you," came the child's awed whisper, but Hermione heard him all the same._

_'Bill...' Hermione thought, attempting to gauge the oldest sibling's age to determine which birth she was present for. She was still not sure **why** George felt she needed to see this. She glanced around the room again, to see if she could find any thing to clue her in, and saw two other small forms she'd apparently missed from her earlier perusal of the room._

_Based on physical size differences, she assumed the other two boys were Charlie and Percy. So that meant..._

_'She's pregnant with the twins now.' Hermione turned back to the couple._

_"Oh, my sweet, sweet boy, are you excited to meet the new babies?" Molly asked, confirming Hermione's deduction as true. The woman was smiling down at her oldest son who had a wide grin on his own tiny face as he nodded excitedly. Hermione couldn't help but smile at how adorable the unfolding scene was._

_It was then that the scene shifted, a sure sign of progression in the memory, and suddenly Molly was sitting in her bed, pregnant no longer as was evident by the two swaddled forms she held in her arms._

_“Aren't they perfect, Molls?”_

_Hermione turned to see Arthur Weasley sitting in a chair. He was smiling happily at his wife as he, too, held a small bundle in his arms. Wait a minute..._

_Hermione looked back at the bed. Yes, Mrs. Weasley did have both of the twins in her arms, but then... Who was Mr. Weasley holding? Looking back and forth, the brunette witch frowned in confusion. This didn't make any sense!_

_Once again the memory rippled and Hermione turned to watch as the proud parents were again cuddling the three babies in their arms. Mr. Weasley was beside his wife on the bed, holding his bundle over so that little Bill, who was sitting on the bed beside his mum, could see. From the corner of her eye, Hermione caught sight of little Charlie and Percy napping on a cot in the corner._

_“Oh, Arthur, they're just perfect!" the sound of Mrs. Weasley's voice drew Hermione's attention back to the bed. "Our little Fredrick and George." the red headed woman held her two bundles close._

_"And our precious Harold," Mr. Weasley added, placing a tender kiss to the forehead of the newborn in his arms. "Can't forget about him, my dear."_

_"Of course not."_

_Hermione watched as Mrs. Weasley gave the sleeping baby in her husband's arms a loving glance._

_'This is... unreal.' Hermione thought to herself. 'Did this really happen? Were Fred and George actually a part of triplets?' The puzzle was still incomplete in Hermione's mind. There was still a missing peice to explain all of this._

_The sound a door opening made Hermione look up in time to see four men dressed in Ministry robes enter the hospital room. Of the four men, one she recognized immediately._

_"Crouch, Sr?" she questioned aloud, then realization struck. "That's right. He's the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement during this time. But what is he doing here?"_

_She looked at the other three men with Bartemius and found that one of them looked vaguely familiar to her. She studied his face, going through the virtual filing cabinet that was her brain until a name came to her._

_'Harold Minchum. The former Minister of Magic?'_

_She remembered him from an assignment given in her Fourth year at Hogwarts. They had all been made to write a foot of parchment on an assigned Minister of the past. Hers had been Damocles Rowle, but being prone to finishing her homework early, Hermione had wound up doing researching on all of the other Ministers as well. Harold Minchum had held the position of Minster of Magic from 1975 to 1980. He had been known as a hard-liner, placing even more Dementors in Azkaban than there ever had been before. Then something else she had learned in her studies hit her._

_"Of course!' Hermione thought, 'Minchum had also been known to have a terrible case of Triskaphobia, which is the fear of the number three!' Hermione's eyes widened, wondering what this could mean for Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who had just had **three** children at one time._

_"Minister Minchum? You honor us with your presence, sir." Arthur Weasley's cheerful greeting drew Hermione's attention from her revelation and back to the Memory playing out before her._

_She noticed that the Minister did not return Mr. Weasley's smile, instead he gestured to Crouch, who was holding a parchment that he immediately began to read._

_"Arthur and Molly Weasley, it has been brought to the attention of the Wizengamot that you are in breach of Ministral decree number 343 in which it clearly states that any births resulting in more than two live offspring at once is prohibited. As such, it is demanded that the third child born into the same family on the same day shall be henceforth relinquished into custody of the Ministry's Child Services where they shall be placed until properly dealt with." he began to roll up the decree as he continued. "Therefore, you are hereby ordered to surrender the last born child immediately."_

_Hermione gasped, her hands flying to her mouth in horror at the proclamation. "No," she whispered even as from the hospital bed Mrs. Weasley cried out in dismay._

_Hermione watched helplessly as Mr. Weasley protested. “Whatever for? These are our children and we will do no such thing!” he exclaimed, holding the bundle in his arms tighter._

_Bartemius scoffed. “By order of the Ministry of Magic and myself, I order you to hand over that child.” he declared._

_Feeling helpless, Hermione watched as one of the unknown men stepped forward and reached to take baby Harold from Arthur's arms. Mr. Weasley tried to evade the man's hands but was unable to. Baby Harold was plucked from his father's arms amidst cries from both red headed adults in the room and one brunette witch._

_The commotion had awoken the two younger Weasely sons. Little Percy and Charlie sat up on their small cot, watching in confusion. Little Bill was trying to comfort his mother, who was struggling to get up. But with Fred and George in her arms, she was unable to._

_“No!” Mrs. Weasley sobbed miserably and Hermione wanted so much to hex the men who dared to do such a horrendous thing to these loving people._

_Arthur reached forward to take the baby back, but was Stupefied by the other man dressed in Auror robes before he was able to get a hold of his son. Hermione's horror began turning to anger, her hand reaching for her wand, though it was useless in this memory world._

_Mrs. Weasley began to plead with the man, her eyes darting back and forth between her husband lying incapacitated on the floor and the Ministry official who had ahold of her infant son._

_“My baby! You cannot take my child! This is inhumane!” she sobbed as the twins began to sense their mother's upset and began to squall._

_“It's the law," the Minister's voice was cold as he replied to the mother's plea. "I made sure it passed myself. The power of three is too dangerous to be allowed to exist with You Know Who rising in power."_

_Hermione's heart hurt for this family who had taken her in as one of their own when things had been at their darkest. When she hadn't had her own parents to go to, due to her having sent them away to keep them safe. She felt tears stinging her eyes, but whether they were tears of anger or sorrow, Hermione didn't know. Perhaps they were both._

_“How can you expect us to just let you do this?” the desperation in Mrs. Weasley's voice reached Hermione's ears and she watched as a look of disdain crossed the Minister's face._

_"I didn't expect you to simply let us do it." the man said coldly. He then turned to the Auror beside him and gave one simple order before stalking out of the room. The official who held baby Harold -- who was now crying as loudly as Fred and George -- following quickly behind._

_"Obliviate the lot of them."_

_"NO!" Hermione screamed her protest, her hand instinctively going to her wand to perform an Expelliarmus on the Auror, before realizing that it would do no good. That this was a memory and had already happened. She could do nothing but watch with a sinking heart as the cowering family met their fate._

_"Obliviate!"_

~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione emerged from the Pensieve sobbing. Her knees trembled as she stepped back, nearly giving out beneath her before the feeling of strong arms encircling her waist prevented her from crumpling to the floor. She was pulled back into a comforting hug as she buried her face in her hands. 

“Let it out love." George whispered into her ear with a softness in his voice she hadn't heard since Bill and Fleur's wedding. "It's alright to cry.” he cooed comfortingly.

Hermione drew in a ragged breath. “Oh, that atrocious and merciless man! How could he do such a thing?” she cried out as she turned in George's arms, her arms wrapping around his waist as she buried her face against his chest.

George silently rocked them both back and forth as Hermione's tears continued to flow. He'd had no idea that his little brother's best friend would take this as hard as she had. But then again, Hermione had always been like family, same as Harry. George felt the need to further console her and so he drew back, bringing his hand up to her chin in order to tilt her face up. He looked intently into her shining eyes as he spoke his next words.

“He's alive, Granger. We've been looking for months, but came up with next to nothing. Thought maybe having the brightest witch of our age on the case couldn't hurt." he offered a half-hearted smile at this, before continuing. "Please, Hermione, help me feel whole again.” 

"Of course, I'll help you, George." Hermione replied instantly. Without thinking, she brought one hand up to cradle the side of George's face.

For a moment, George leaned into her touch, his blue eyes drifting closed. He'd always had a soft spot for the little brunette witch. "Thanks, Hermione." he murmured sincerely. "It means the world to me."

~*~*~*~*~*~

Morris emerged from the bathroom, having just finished taking a bath and changing into some lounge clothes when a knock came at the front door. He glanced at the clock on the wall and knew there was only two people who would show up at his home at such a late hour. He walked over to the door as he finished toweling his hair dry. Taking a quick peek out the peephole, he exhaled a soft laugh, his lips stretching into a welcoming smile as he opened the door.

"Hello, mum." he greeted the short woman who stood in the hallway holding a covered dish.

Ella Talliver shot her son a warm smile in return as she entered the apartment, not bothering to wait for an invite. Morris bent down in order to allow his foster mother to kiss his cheek before she continued on heading towards the kitchen area. 

"You know, mum, the club does provide meals for their comics." Morris reminded the woman who had raised him, despite not being his actual birth mother. 

"Of course, dear," Ella replied sweetly. Morris had told her this on several occasions, but what kind of mother would she be if she didn't make sure her boy was eating proper? Placing the dish on the counter, she turned to where Morris was leaning against the door frame. "So, how have you been doing, my love? Still taking your college courses right? You're not letting that comedy thing take up all of your time, are you?" 

Morris grimaced at the tone she used when speaking of his stand up job. It was his passion, had been since forever. Could he help it if it didn't pay as much as he wished it would?

 _'One day, though,'_ he thought idly. _'One day when I get discovered, I'll be touring just like the greats.'_ Out loud, he replied to his mother's inquiries. "My major should be coming through this semester. As far as my Stand Up goes, I've got a gig four days a week down at the Comedy Club. Been drawing quite the crowd, actually, you should come down and see it." he informed her. 

Ella tilted her head in a nod. "Of course, dear, your father and I will come down and see you next week. How's that?"

Morris grinned excitedly "That'd be great, mum. I'll make sure to use my best material!" he assured her as he walked into the kitchen to take a peek at what goodies his mother had brought. She always made the best chocolate chip cookies.

"So..." his mother began, as she watched him lift the lid and withdraw one of the biscuits laying within. "Everything's been good. No more... accidents?"

Morris' hand paused mid-lift, the pastry just inches away from his lips as he shot his mother a look. "Not recently, no." he replied simply after a second and resumed with eating the treat. It was the truth. There hadn't been any unexplainable mishaps in a few months. For as long as he could remember, strange things happened to and around him. Like something he had been thinking about getting suddenly finding its way into his hands, like the remote to the telly last October. There had been other instances all throughout his childhood, but his parents had simply waved them away, giving sometimes oddball explanations that - although highly unlikely - Morris had accepted all the same for fear of his sanity.

"Good, good, you know I just worry about you, Morris. You're my pride and joy.' Ella said affectionately as she reached out and stroked her son's hair fondly. "Honestly, you should really call more often. Or better yet, drop by for a visit. You can't possibly be too busy to visit your own mum."

Morris tilted his head and grinned. “If I drop by any more than, I might as well move back home.” he told her with a laugh. 

"That is fine by me, your room is right where you left it." his mother joked, and Morris chuckled. If she wasn't his foster mother, then he would think that was where he'd gotten his love for jokes. 

Turning around, he opened up the fridge to look for anything to drink as he responded. "As much as I'd love to, mum, I think I'm fine right where I am. Big boy, me." he laughed as he began rummaging through the open appliance. There had to be some milk in there somewhere...

As his back was turned, his mother asked another one of her usual questions. "So, have you met any nice girls lately? Perhaps you've acquired an entourage at your little comedy place."

He shook his head in amusement. Morris thought it must be a typical question for all mums to have one thing on her mind when it came to their adult sons. Them settling down happily, preferably followed by eventual grandchildren.

He didn't know what possessed him to mention her. Perhaps it was the fact that she'd caught his attention so spectacularly, practically fainting at the sight of him. The instant attraction that had followed once she'd came around hadn't hurt either. Whatever the case, Morris felt the sudden urge to tell his mum about Hermione.

"I have met someone, actually, just tonight." he said, still searching inside of the refrigerator. Where was that blasted milk?

"That's wonderful, dear," his mother gushed, "What's her name?" 

"It's Hermione. Hermione Granger."

"Oh..." Ella's voice falter a bit as she spoke, "That's wonderful, sweetheart." Morris frowned as he noted a bit of hesitancy in his mother's tone. Finally locating the carton, he withdrew it and turned around just as his mother continued, her voice now returning to its normally cheery disposition. "You'll have to bring her by to meet us, son."

"Mum," Morris rolled his eyes at her prompting. "We haven't even gone on a proper date yet. Aren't you jumping the gun just a little?"

"Hmmm..." Ella made mock thinking gesture and Morris snorted in amusement. She gave him a wink as they both laughed. "Well, you just make sure you don't take too long in bringing her around." she chided, reaching up to hug her son as she prepared to leave. "I'd best be going, your dad should be home from work by now, and I'm sure you need to get to bed. Handsome man like you needs his beauty sleep." 

"Sure, mum. Whatever you say." he blushed under his mother's compliments to his looks. He wasn't one to be vain on his image, but his mother took great pride in telling him how well he'd turned out. She liked to take credit for raising him right, as if that had anything to do with his physical appearance and not simply genetics. "Send dad my love." 

"Of course, dear." Ella replied as Morris escorted her to the door. 

He held it open, allowing her to apply one last kiss to his cheek before the woman who had raised him swept out of his apartment like the petite whirlwind that she was. He couldn't count how many times he'd thanked his lucky stars to have been placed in Walter and Ella Talliver's care all those years ago. 

~*~*~*~*~*~

TBC...


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note:** Thanks to everyone leaving reviews, favoriting and following. Sorry it's taking so long between updates. I wanted to update Semper first but am kind of stuck on the next chapter, so I turned to this one instead. Hope everyone likes it so far and hopefully I will be updating Semper within the next couple days.

**Mistaken Identity**  
**\- Chapter 7 -**

 

Ella Talliver entered the front door to the house, flinging her clutch onto the table positioned against the wall right inside the foyer. She immediately made her way into the living room, hoping that her husband had already made it home from work.

"Walter? Are you home, love?" She called out as she entered the room. Walter Talliver emerged through the doorway opposite from where she stood which led to the kitchen.

"Ella? Is everything okay? Has something happened to Morris?" the elder man's eyes held a bit of trepidation as he met his wife's worried gaze.

"Yes," Ella replied automatically, then rethought her reply, "I mean, no." she tried again, biting her lip as she continued. "Well... maybe?" she sighed when Walter cocked his head to the side in confusion. "Look, nothing has happened **_yet_** , but I'm afraid that something is fixing to. Something that may take him away from us forever."

Seeing his wife was distraught, Walter walked over and gathered her into his arms. He held her to him as he rubbed her back soothingly as he murmured into her hair. "Tell me what's happened, sweetie."

Ella took a steadying breath, releasing it against her husband's chest. "Morris met a girl tonight." 

She was taken off guard when her husband's chest began to shake as rumbles of laughter emerged. "This isn't funny!" she exclaimed as she drew back. She shot a glare up at him that, unfortunately, didn't seem to have the desired effect as he continued to chuckle.

"Ella, honey, you knew this day would come eventually." Walter said. "Our Morris has always been quite charming, albeit a bit awkward at times, but we knew he'd find himself a girlfriend eventually."

"Her name is **_Hermione Granger_**." Ella stated pointedly, waiting for the moment her words would hit home. 

It took only a couple of seconds for Walter's amused expression to be wiped from his features. His smiling lips turned down into a frown as his brows crinkled in concern. "Hermione Granger? **_The_** Hermione Granger?" he asked disbelievingly.

Ella nodded. "Yes. Apparently she showed up at that comedy club of his and they seemed to have hit it off."

"Merlin help us," Walter groaned. "So what did he say while you were there? Does he suspect anything? You don't think she mentioned something, do you?"

"Thankfully, he didn't seem to be aware so she must not have." Ella moved to sit down on the couch with a sigh. Her husband followed suit, sitting down beside her. "But he mentioned a date this Friday, so there's no telling when something might slip." She gasped as a thought occurred to her. "What if he has a mishap while in her presence? Oh, Walter, what if she discovers his secret?"

Walter put his arm around his wife comfortingly. "It'll be alright, sweetheart." he murmured, but to be honest, he was as worried about Morris as his wife. 

It was true, Morris **_wasn't_** his son by blood, but Walter had raised him as his own. The Tallivers had taken little Morris under their wing as a favor to Ella' s sister, a true witch who had worked for the Ministry of Magic years ago.

\- Flashback -

 _It had been twenty years ago that Olivia Brookstanton had shown up on her younger sister's doorstep, a two year old Morris in her arms, though he hadn't been called Morris at the time. His name had been Harold, a rambunctious child with bright red hair and a massive amount of freckles on his adorable face. The Tallivers looked confused as they invited their suprise guest in._

_"Good evening, 'Liv," Ella greeted her older sister, "What brings you here? And who is this?"_

_"Hello, Ella, Walter." Olivia replied as she shifted the child in her arms. "I'm sorry to drop in on you uninvited but I simply had no other choice." she nodded to the toddler who was staring at the couple in awe. "and this little one is Harold, though I don't think we'll be keeping his name as such. I wouldn't want to risk it."_

_"Risk what?" Walter frowned._

_He didn't like the the fact that his sister-in-law, a witch who happened to be employed with the Ministry of Magic had suddenly shown up in their home with a child that they knew was not hers. They knew because Olivia suffered from the same inability to concieve a child as Ella did. It was troubling and he intended to get to the bottom of it._

_"What are you doing here, Olivia, and who does that little boy belong to?" he inquired._

_"I'll explain, Walter, but first, I need to do something." Olivia said._

_The dark haired witch then proceeded to hand the child she held over to her sister. Caught by surprise, Ella had no choice but to gather the boy into her own arms as she watched Olivia began to cast wards as well as silencing charms all around the house. When she was done, she turned back to them, slipping her wand into the sleeve of her robe as she did so. Taking a breath, she exhaled it slowly before beginning to speak._

_"I became guardian to little Harold just a few short hours after he was born. My boss brought him to me, under orders from the Minister himself, and demanded that I care for him. Naturally, I was shocked at the order. I mean, here was this amazing little bundle of joy and he was being given to me out of the blue." Olivia looked into her sister's eyes, knowing she would understand._

_"I was informed of his parentage and the reasoning behind him being placed into my care. I did not agree with it and I felt horrible, I assure you, but I had to do as I was told. In the end, it didn't matter though. As I watched him grow, I came to care for him like he was my own." Tears glistened in her eyes as she reached out to ruffle downy, red locks. "Now, however, I've found it is unsafe to keep him any longer." she turned her gaze away from Harold and back to her sister. "My husband has decided to align himself with the Dark Lord. I beg of you, sister, please take him, keep him safe." Olivia pleaded, all the while hoping that her sister and brother in law would not insist on knowing the whereabouts of Harold's birth parents._

_Silence reigned for a moment as the Tallivers digested what Olivia had just told them. Finally, Ella asked the question that the older witch had prayed she wouldn't._

_"What of the child's parents? You claimed you did not agree with the reason for him being placed with you. What was that reason?" Ella stared intently at her sister. "and do not lie to me, 'Liv." she added tersely._

_Olivia sighed, her eyes falling closed for a moment before opening again to meet Ella's as she confessed the heinous way in which Harold had been unwillingly separated from his parents._

_"Harold was the last born in a set of triplets and Minister Minchum took him out of fear caused by his triskaphobia. He was placed in my care shortly thereafter." she explained._

_"But Minchum's out of office now, isn't he?" Walter asked. "Why not just give him back to his rightful parents?"_

_Olivia shook her head sadly. "I wish it were that simple," she murmured. "Unfortunately, Minchum ordered that the entire family be Obliviated on the night he took Harold."_

_Walter and Ella gasped, their eyes immediately training themselves on the toddler who was still sat comfortably in Ella's arms._

_"I've had him for a little over two years now. I cared for him as if he were my own and up until now, my husband hadn't interferred, but..." Olivia's eyes looked desperate now. I cannot assure his safety if Rupert does indeed devote himself to that monster. Please, Ella..."_

_"Of course, 'Liv," Ella reassured her sister. "We will take him."_

_"There's one more thing," Olivia sniffed, once again drawing her wand. "I will need you both to swear to me that you will not tell anyone of where he came from."_

_"How can we do that? I'm sure everyone will wonder about his looks, he doesn't exactly look like he's related to us." Walter argued._

_"I can fix that," Olivia stated. "I will cast a glamour to mask his hair and eye color. We could also do away with his freckles. You can say you are fostering him, perhaps for another relative or something."_

_The couple nodded in agreement and Olivia proceeded to cast the spell. Soon, the little boy's flame colored hair had changed to a light brown and his blue eyes had shifted to hazel. The multitude of freckles had also faded away and his skin was clear and fair. When she was done, the Ministry witch turned to scan the room. Choosing a table that stood against the living room wall, she raised her wand once again and with a flourish of her hand Transfigured it into a small crib. Taking the child from Ella's arms, she placed him inside the crib before turning back to the couple._

_"Now, the Vow, if you don't mind." she urged. Then proceded to tell them what was required of them. "I need you both to kneel with me. We will then join hands and when I cast the binding spell, you will both repeat what I am fixing to tell you. Understand?" When the couple nodded, Olivia continued. "You will both say 'I vow to take care of... Morris as our own and will not inform him of his paternity until he is of age."_

_"Morris?" Ella inquired._

_"It's his middle name," she informed them. "I figured it would go well with your last name."_

_"Morris Talliver," Ella tried out the new name, as she shared a look with her husband. They had both wanted a child of their own for so long... a small smile lifted her lips as he nodded to her. "Okay, we're ready." she stated._

_Walter and Ella moved to kneel before Olivia, who knelt as well, clasping each of their hands with her free one. She then placed the tip of her wand against their hands. Olivia recited the incantation for the Unbreakable Vow and immediately a red light issued from the wand to engulf their hands. Ella and Walter then repeated what the other woman had told them previously. The light brightened a bit more before gradually fading away, leaving an invisible bond behind._

_The three rose to their feet in silence, Ella and Walter maintaining their hand holds even as Olivia dropped her own. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a shrunken bag containing the toddler's clothing and other necessities which she returned to its original size. Putting away her wand, she approached the crib, and set the bag aside. Running a hand lovingly over the now chestnut curls of the little boy who was standing a bit wobbly, with the aide of the railing, Olivia leaned down to kiss his small forehead before turning away._

_She briskly walked to the door and opened it, pausing only to utter a soft "Thank you," before disappearing into the night._

\- End Flashback -

Since that night, Walter and Ella Talliver had raised little Harold - now Morris - as their own. They had fudged his age by a few years in order to throw off any suspicions and in the process of raising him, had fallen completely in love with the boy. To them he was, in essence, their son. When Morris had come of age and the time to inform him of his past had arrived, the Tallivers had found themselves unable to reveal the full truth. They had told Morris about them not being his birth parents, but had left out how they had come into custody of him. Instead, they had stayed with the cover story. They were his foster family and they had no idea who his real parents were.

When he had started displaying bouts of accidental magic, they had done their best to explain it away. They had not wanted Morris involved in the magical world, not with the Dark Lord on the rise again, if rumors were to be believed. But now the war was over. Voldemort had been defeated months ago. And Hermione Granger was evidently on their foster son's radar.

Walter wrapped his arms around his wife, his chin resting on the top of her head. "Everything will be just fine, darling," he repeated, trying to sooth his wife, even if he didn't quite believe the words he used.

Ella shook her head and peeled away from her husband. She turned from him, her shoulders slouching as tears began to form in the corners of her eyes. "I don't know if it will be, Walter. There's so much that could go wrong." 

Walter sighed, "What's the worst thing you think will happen?"

"The worst thing," Ella sighed, "Is that he winds up hating us for keeping this secret from him for so long." she wiped at her eyes to keep her vision from blurring. "We were so naive to think that he would never encounter another witch or wizard, even in the Muggle world. We should have told him years ago."

"Then why don't we?" Walter replied, holding his wife close. When she glanced up at him, he gave her an encouraging smile. "You mentioned he invited us to see him perform next Friday. We can tell him the truth then."

~*~*~*~*~

Hermione pulled back from George's embrace, blushing a bit before offering him a seat. Once he was settled onto the couch, she disappeared into the kitchen, returning shortly with two cups filled with tea. She offered one to George and with the other in hand, sat beside him on the sofa.

George offered a small smile as thanks and began rubbing at his temple. Sighing heavily, he looked to Hermione. "Would you, by any chance, know where we should start?"

Hermione thought for a moment. "Well, I suppose we could start with you filling me in on all you know. No matter how minuscule, George, I want to know everything."

George nodded and set his cup of tea on the table in front of him. "Well, you saw the memory in the pensive." At Hermione's nod in confirmation, he continued, "I can't say that I remember much of anything, but looking back, I do remember feeling like there was a part of me missing."

Hermione was shocked to hear this, but didn't know what to say. She didn't want to mention Fred, for fear of upsetting George. So she was totally taken by surprise by what George said next.

"When he," George cleared his throat and continued, his voice strained, "When Fred died, I died. Life didn't have a purpose for me anymore. But, after this news, I don't feel as...lost anymore. When Fred was still here, we talked once about feeling like there was a piece missing from us, but we weren't sure what it was." George paused and turned to look at Hermione with determination, "I think Harold was the piece missing. I'm not going to let another brother slip through my fingers again."

At this confession, Hermione felt an overwhelming urge to hug George, but didn't know why. She had never been close to either of the twins, even when the war had been raging around them, they had interacted only on occasion, her school-hood crush on George notwithstanding. But now, she had to hold herself back from gathering the red head into her arms and squeezing with all her might. Another blush came to her cheeks, unbidden, and Hermione felt confused. Why was she reacting like this now? Suddenly, an image of Morris emerged in her mind.

She shook her head, banishing her thoughts. This wasn't the time for her to be thinking of George or Morris in that fashion. Instead, she grasped George's hands. "We're going to find out what happened to Harold, I promise."

"Thank you," George replied, looking at her as if she were the answer to his prayers. Hermione blushed again.

George pretended he hadn't noticed the color rising in Hermione's cheeks, filing this anomaly away for later. Instead, he focused on filling her in on what they had to go on, which wasn't much.

When he was finished, Hermione sighed. "Well, I can begin my research by going to the courthouse. There could be some public newspapers or documents that may give some indication of Harold. Hopefully that'll give us something to go on."

George nodded, taking the last sip of his tea before setting the cup down and rose to his feet. When Hermione did the same, George once again gathered her to him in a hug. "Thanks again, Granger. You don't know how much this means to me." he murmured into her curls.

"I think maybe I do." Hermione replied softly.

Pulling back, George gave Hermione one of the patented Weasley Twin winks. "I'm going to head back to the Burrow and let everyone know that the brightest witch of our age is on the case." he said with more teasing in his voice than there had been in quite a while. "I'll send an owl in a couple days, if that's alright? In case something turns up."

"That's fine," she smiled in return. "Maybe I'll have a bit of good news for you by then." she added, half hopeful.

George nodded, then after collecting the Pensieve, gave a final "Goodbye," before Apparating from the living room.

After the resounding crack following George's departure had faded away, Hermione sighed deeply as her mind began to go back over all that had just happened. From meeting Morris Talliver and taking an instant shine to the handsome comic, to coming home to find her best friend's older brother and school hood crush waiting for her with a surprising revelation, it was a lot to take in. Exhaling slowly, Hermione allowed her thoughts to settle, thinking it best that she get to bed soon. 

After all, she had research to begin tomorrow and a Friday night date to prepare for. 

~*~*~*~*~

tbc...


End file.
